


Tumblr Drabbles

by Alene



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [2]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Levels of Angst, Future Fic, Introspection, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Trondheim, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alene/pseuds/Alene
Summary: Short drabbles and ficlets originally posted on my tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny slice of life based on a quote hjertetssunnegalskap1 sent to me on tumblr: “You don’t get explanations in real life. You just get moments that are absolutely, utterly, inexplicably odd.” – Neil Gaiman

It’s odd, Eva thinks, that this is how it ended up being. That when she breaks up with Jonas for the second time, it’s Isak she goes to. Again. 

It’s just like the first time seven years ago, and at the same time it’s nothing like that at all.

She takes the night train to Trondheim, because it’s the only thing she can think of doing after their dinner is gone and all the words are gone and she has put her most important things in the backpack and walked away from their two-bedroom apartment in Torshov.

It had been the first night in months when they didn’t argue at all. Because they had finally found one thing they agreed on.

That it was time to move on.

She calls Isak from the train. His voice is heavy with sleep, and it takes a minute before he understands what she’s saying. Or what she’s trying to say. Her throat constricts in the middle of a sentence and she has to start again.

“Okay,” Isak says, and then, more muffled, “no, it’s Eva.”

A low, equally sleepy voice answers something in the background. Eva can’t hear the words but suddenly she’s hit with the realization that from now on she’ll wake up alone.

She disconnects the call just before the sob comes out her mouth.  

 

***

 

Isak waits him at the train station at 6:40 the next morning, holding two coffee cups and reaching for an awkward hug once Eva has taken the other one between her own hands. 

The city is quiet this time of the morning. Just a few early risers hurrying to their jobs, the sound of a snow plow clearing the streets somewhere further away. It’s snowing, just a bit. Flakes melting against the chestnut brown of Eva’s hair.

They walk slowly, sipping their coffees and crossing a bridge and then another one before starting their trek uphill to Rosenborg. They don’t talk.

It’s too early to talk.

The house where Isak and Even have rented a few rooms for themselves is technically a single family home. But the old couple living in it hasn’t needed the second floor for years, now. Not since their own kids had moved away. To Oslo, Uppsala, Tokyo. Like kids tend to do.

“It’s nice,” Isak had told Eva when they had moved in two years ago, “they’re nice”.

 

***

 

Even is in the kitchen when they get to the house. He smiles at Eva, something apologetic in his features, and pats her on the shoulder before disappearing. Leaving Isak and Eva alone. 

Isak looks at her, really looks.

“How are you doing, Eva?” he asks, then.

And maybe Eva could disconnect the call the night before, but there’s no way of hiding the sniffle that comes out now.

Isak takes a step closer and wraps his arms around her.

He’s taller. Not quite so skinny anymore. But for a moment Eva feels like she’s back in the basement of her mother’s home, sixteen years old and heartbroken for the first time.

It truly is odd, she thinks. That they’re best friends after everything.

They’ve never talked about what Isak did to her back then. They’ve never talked about what  _ Eva did to him.  _ That dare. She still remembers it sometimes, late at night, shame a heavy liquid running her veins.  

She’d been so angry, so stupid, so reckless.

She’s never even apologized for it. She’s never explained herself.

Isak hums.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers against her hair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's thoughts, mid-November 2016.

It’s full moon on monday the 14th of November. 

The sun has set before Even’s classes end for the day. It always does this time of the year. He hops out of the tram at the train station and lets his steps lead to Shawarma House. He’s home alone, his parents away for the week. Not in the mood for making dinner tonight.

The week has barely begun and he can already feel it in his bones, the tiredness and the loneliness that had set there after he decided to end things with Isak. After he decided to end things with Sonja.

He had seen Isak on the school yard today, for the first time in a week and a half. 

Isak had been alone, deep in thought. Even thinks he had looked sad.

But maybe he was just imagining it.

Either way, he did the right thing.

It hurts now, but it won’t hurt forever.

With his belly warm and full of shawarma he decides to walk instead of taking another tram. Take the long route, avoid the empty apartment a little longer.

The path following the riverside is dark, the distance between the street lamps not exactly short.  

People walking down to the city centre are just dark shapes moving closer and closer to him and then passing him by. For a short while, under a street lamp or if the moonlight hits just right, he can see that they’re humans. Then they’re gone.

He loved Isak, he thinks. Loves him still.

It hurts now, but it won’t hurt forever.   


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even, on December 1st, 2016.

He’s walking home and it’s Isak in his brain, Isak on the loop, Isak Isak Isak, the blond curls peeking under his cap, the hint of red high on his cheeks when Even had said what he said to the boys. 

Isak’s boys. They were so nice, all of them, and Magnus had hugged him too.

Everything would’ve been perfect if Sonja wouldn’t have tried to call. She has no business calling Isak. Even can’t believe her, just can’t. Can’t understand why she has to be so controlling, still. Fuck Sonja.

He’s doing fine.

He’s happy.

He’s so fucking happy.

It’s Isak saying that he’s found the one, in the kitchen with Gabrielle in the background. Isak peeking at him through his lashes, Isak doing that thing in the shower. Oh fuck.

That thing.

Sonja can’t ruin that.

If only Isak hadn’t looked suspicious for a moment. But that kiss probably distracted him enough. It was a good kiss even if Even says so himself. He’s fucking proud of it, actually. And he can’t wait to have more of Isak’s kisses, kisses everywhere, all over his body, and him kissing Isak too, everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere everywhere everywhere. Even there.

In fact, here’s an idea. He’s going to take Isak to a hotel tomorrow. He deserves it. He’s working so hard to pass that exam. Isak’s so smart. Even can’t believe how lucky he’s gotten, how Isak is actually his. Smart, beautiful Isak. How the light hairs along his jawline had felt under Even’s hands when they kissed. The warmth of his cheeks. But yes. A hotel. What an amazing idea. Isak’s going to love it. Isak’s going to love him. And they can do everything, finally. He googles, tries to book a room but his phone’s ringing. Annoying shrilly, insistent sound in his ears. It’s Sonja. What a nagging bitch. Why can’t she take a hint already. He disconnects the call. Clicks on a suite with a view. Yes, perfect. The phone is ringing again. Whatever. He disconnects. Types the credit card number, gets it wrong the first time. His hands are shaking with excitement. Heartbeat thrumming in his ears. He’s walking back and forth on the pavement

                                                                                                     (can’t see people walking past him, staring him, crashing into him, yelling at him)

This is going to make everything better. Phone ringing. No. Not now, Sonja. Can’t you see I’m booking a hotel room for Isak and me. Isak and me. Not you and me. We’re over, Sonja. Yes. Bye. Isak’s going to love this and he’ll never want to leave. It’s perfect.  

Perfect.

Now Isak will never want to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a song prompt (Strange Things Will Happen by Radio Dept) that lovely Sarah sent me <3


	4. Oct 28, 2016 (or on sharing a bed with another person when you’ve never done it before)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this.

10:24 pm: He has never touched anyone like this, without wanting it to be something else. Someone else.

11:11 pm: When chills go through his body he doesn’t know if it’s from the cold, from the wetness of his clothes, from the pool. When he shakes he doesn’t know whether to call it desire or fear.

1:01 am: He falls asleep first. Not him but the other him, the one staring at them from the windowsill. The one telling him he’s going to fuck this up. This, too.

1:08 am: Warmth.

1:12 am: Another body, against his.

3:48 am: In a dream a heifer is a heifer but also his mom. _I warn you_ , the heifer says.  _I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God._

3:52 am: Sounds from the hallway.

4:02 am: In a dream his mom who is also a heifer. In a dream a heifer that speaks with a voice that isn’t her voice but that he knows is her voice.  _I warn you_ , the heifer says.  _I warn you my son who is also not my son_ , the heifer says. _I never had any calfs, never could have any calfs_ , the heifer yells.  _God’s wrath left me barren left me broken and yet you’re here, my son._

5:03 am: His eyelids are heavy and there’s a hand touching his dick.

There’s a hand touching his dick and the hand touching his dick is attached to an arm and the arm is attached to a person. Another person entirely. Not him, but a person sleeping in the room with him. A person sleeping. Sleeping and touching his dick. Does he even know he’s doing it does he even want to would he be embarrassed if he

would he would he would he

5:41 am:  _And yet you’re here, my son. Yet you’re living in sin_.

I don’t believe in sin, he says. Quietly.

_And yet you’re here._

I don’t believe in sin. He says, a little louder.

_And yet you’re here._

I HAVE NEVER BELIEVED IN ANYTHING MOM.

(He says, but only inside his head.)

5:42 am: The body next to his stirs.  _Sleep_ , says a sleepy voice.

So he does.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [tristealven](https://tristealven.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to say hi.


End file.
